


The Night We Met Again

by Gylentia



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, 天下統一恋の乱 | Sakura Amidst Chaos | Samurai Love Ballad (Visual Novel), 天下統一恋の乱 | Tenka Touitsu Koi no Ran (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gylentia/pseuds/Gylentia
Summary: "So, I’m not really sure where I was going with this. I just got done watching one of the Addams Family movies and felt that Kotaro would fit in nicely with them. I want my next one to venture deeper into that. "





	The Night We Met Again

_Sleep. Why do people need sleep?_ These, the thoughts that plague my mind at night when I desire most to do anything but. Logically, I know the basic science behind the physical need for sleep. As of late, my dreams have veered from their glorious torture and gore to something different, to him. My aunt would have told me this was either a premonition or a memory from a past life. Silently, I pray to what ever powers that may be that this silver haired man in my dreams is more premonition than past. I stare blankly a the skulls hidden within the brocade of the curtains that surround my bed, trying to remember details. There is a worn leather journal on the nightstand and a pen laid beside it for the rare chance that I may be able to write any details down. It feels like hours, but I let sleep take me.

Psychotic laughter, followed by the sound of steel clashing on steel, I am fighting this silver haired man in this dream. Such a complicated feeling - why would I fight a person for whom I feel so strongly? Yet there is dream me, fighting and laughing while the silver haired man glares back. I am finally able to take note of his clothing as I jolt awake and scramble for my journal. Finally, I am able to draw his attire. Perhaps this will aid me into further clues about his origins. He appears to be from somewhere in Asia based on the collar of the garment and type of weapon he wields. I look at the clock and it’s only 2 A.M. I need to return to sleep if I am to be what is passable for an acceptable human being. No more dreams that I can recall come to me that night.

I take my journal to work with me the next morning. After I finish teaching my first few classes for the day, I have a couple hours of break around my lunch. While my expertise may be in medieval Europe and the torture devices of the Inquisition, I will admit to my lack of in depth knowledge about the Asian countries. Sure, I have a general knowledge, but not one that I can so easily recall such details from as I have need of knowing at the present time. 

In the library, I come across one of my colleagues and decide to ask him for his assistance as this is more his area anyhow.

“Professor Harris, good afternoon to you and just the man I happened to be in need of. Do you have a free moment to look over a drawing for me? It is fine if you’re not able, do not let a lowly worm such as myself be a bother to you.” 

Professor Harris sighs and looks up from his grading. “It would be less of a bother to me if you would refrain from referring to yourself as ‘lowly worm’. That being said, yes, I have time. My eyes need a rest from these papers anyhow.”

Such glee fills my heart upon hearing this. I happily take out my journal and turn to the drawing I had made from this morning. “Where and when might an outfit like this have been worn?”

Professor Harris studies my drawing for a few moments and then raises an eyebrow at me. “Professor Addams, I did not believe you to be a chaser of such follies. Surely this looks to be just someone’s fancy of what a ninja would have worn. As for a time, it’s difficult to tell the kind of sword based on such a sketch and there are no other real defining factors in such fantasy attire.” He shakes his head and pushes my journal back towards me.

“Thank you for your time and your insight, Professor, I know how to deal with a certain matter.” He nods to me and I walk away. It is best that he believe it had to deal with a student rather than my own personal issues. A ninja though, I would have never thought that. Perhaps that was just a romanticized way of saying assassin. Just saying that thought in my mind sends pleasurable tingles through my spine - a silver haired assassin. 

In the days after this exchange, I spend my spare time reading up on ninjas and their believed villages and as I get closer to parts of it, reading names like Iga and such, it feels like a missing piece of myself is floating back in to place. Fuma.. This name keeps coming back to me, but I don’t believe it is that of the silver haired man. In the end, I reach a stand still on my research and the dreams slow to a trickle of occasional flashes and nothing of any major note. 

Months have come and gone since the dreams slowed. Today my second cousin, Wednesday, is coming over from the United States. We are going to be touring our own lists of haunts and tortures. I rush out to greet her the moment my driver arrives at the estate with her. It has been years since I’ve seen her. This is the beginning of her journey to visit our grand family around Europe and I can barely contain my excitement.

“Good Morning, Wednesday! My goodness, it has been so long! What caused you to choose one more worthless than dirt to start your visit with?” 

Wednesday gives me one of her most beautiful of smiles that any serial killer would most certainly swoon over as she walks towards me. “Nathaniel, Nathaniel, worthless than dirt? I am sure you can do better at degrading yourself. Don’t hold back for my sake, and I am very willing to help if you should need it.” 

We started in Ireland and then to Scotland and finally we returned to England. Yet, our trip hit a rough patch around London. See, most Addams are not the greatest followers of major sporting events and I forgot this whole Olympic thing was happening. Not to delay Wednesday with this, I sent her on her way to the next family member. She is returning here to fly home anyhow, so we will do London after the Olympics. 

Olympics, they’re here, so I should probably check it out. The next day, I decide to go over to the main booth to see what ticketing is available. On my way there, I can’t believe my eyes. Getting off one of the transit buses of athletes is a silver haired man with the same build as the ones in my dream. Compelled, I follow the crowd that has gathered around the athlete he is with. The athlete appears to be some kind of martial artist. I can see why these girls are fond of him, those eyes are certainly attractive, but he is not my focus. No, his companion is and I stare at him. After a few moments he looks my way and we lock eyes. A smile plays at my lips, a geyser of joy buried deep within my soul threatens to explode the longer I gaze at him. Yet in my blossoming passion, his eyes turn cold as he scowls at me. For any normal meeting, I would be on my way, but for this, it compels me to gaze longer into his eyes - the eyes of this man I know so well and yet not at all. 

Time has stood still for me and soon the crowd is ushered away and my eye contact with the man who has haunted my dream comes to an end. Frantically, I question a few of the girls around me to see who that was and what sport he plays. It turns out he’s a martial artist. So, I go to the ticket booth and buy tickets for the matches in that sport, all the while hoping for a glimpse of that silver haired man.

After rounds upon rounds, it would seem this young man is set to win. The medal matches are tomorrow and the evening has grown late. I exit the stadium with the crowd, but unlike them, my heart pounds for the peaks of that silver hair I was able to see tonight.

On my way to a colleague’s flat, I stop at a restaurant that only appears to be open late to cater to these large crowds. I sit at the bar and eat my late meal without issue, but as I walk back, I am pulled into an alleyway and pressed against the stone wall of a building. I look into the eyes of my abductor and see the coppery blood I know so well and flashes of that silver hair.

“Why are you following me?” The silver haired man growls as he presses my shoulders into the cold stone.

_I want to sing! I am so happy! He’s here, the man in my dreams is here before me, pressing me into a wall and looking like he means to harm me. What pure joy! I hope he tortures me! What potential bliss I could experience this night!_ I am sure my mouth has turned into a twisted smile, but I cannot help it. “I feel as if I have dreamed of you for ages and here you are before me. All this time I thought you were a thing of my past and yet here you are now!”

He looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Who are you?”

“I am Nathaniel Addams, Professor of Medieval Studies, pleased to finally make your acquaintance. And who might you be? You who has noticed a dung beetle such as myself.”

“That is of no concern to you. I will tell you this once and only once. Do not come find us again or I will make you hurt. Forget you ever saw me. I dealt with you enough before, I do not wish to repeat it.”

“You will hurt me? Is that a promise?”

“Yes.”

“What providence! That would be a dream come true! Here, I will give you my card if you like.”

The silver haired man looks annoyed and then releases me, vanishing almost as quickly as he came. My heart is racing. He’s real, AND he threatened me with pain. If there are gods in this world they have shown their favor upon me! I must meet this man again.


End file.
